


When You Need Someone To Run To

by Viscountesshope



Series: I'll Be [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Better living through Country Music, Headcanon, M/M, Slow Burn, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscountesshope/pseuds/Viscountesshope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two teens who have both lost greatly, come to an understanding. And maybe more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Need Someone To Run To

**Author's Note:**

> I’m an anal retentive, and I happen to find research fun. As such, the streets listed, the hospital, the park, and Reba McEntire’s “I’ll Be” coming out in the same time period as when Kurt’s mother most likely died is all absolutely factual. All the other info is my own headcanon. The idea of the Beadazzled shoes is partly Sketchers’ fault because of those adorable rhinestone sneakers they have out for little girls now that they so need to make for adults also. The rest of the credit for that one goes to Loony4moony816 on FF.net and her story “Here Comes the Sun.” Her stories are just so damned cute and kinda NSFW just because they make me giggle, and my job isn’t all that amusing. Oh, and BOLD=Noah singing and Italic=Kurt singing. And of course Bold Italic=Both singing.

Puck was still at Lima Memorial Hospital, sitting on the curb outside the emergency room; hours after giving his little girl up for adoption and after the rest of the Glee club had left as well. Quinn had to stay overnight because there had apparently been more blood than there should have been and he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He'd resigned himself to giving little Beth up for adoption, but still…  _I should really be happy, right? I don't need the responsibility at 16. I don't want to mess her up as much as I am,_  he thought as he watched as an ambulance came to a halt in front of the doors and paramedics jumped out of the back pulling a gurney out as well as several doctors and nurses rushed out of the hospital, everyone shouting information and orders over one another. It made him think of Rachel, Mercedes, and Hummel trying to agree on a set list for Regionals. But as soon as Mr. Gunshot Wound to the Lower Abdomen was wheeled into the emergency room, Noah Puckerman's thoughts returned to the little girl he had helped bring into the world and then turned his back on. Just like his dad.

"No, not like him. He  _chose_  to walk away from Mom and me and Bekah. Quinn was determined and I couldn't go it on my own. I didn't have a choice," Puck muttered to himself as he scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed.

"There's always a choice Noah Puckerman. Those choices just aren't always between options you like," a light voice said from behind him.

Puck didn't look at the other boy; he just growled at him, "What are you doing here Hummel?"

Kurt stepped down off the curb and sat gingerly beside the broader boy before passing him one of the cups of Starbucks he had in his hands. "It's odd, isn't it?" the countertenor asked, ignoring Puck's own question.

"What is?" The jock was confused by the non sequitur.

"The world keeps going on; full of vibrant colors and a cacophony of noise even after your own world has ended. It doesn't seem right, does it? The world should come to a complete stop out of respect and take note of your loss."

Puck finally turned his head to look at the petite fashionista sitting beside him, "What the fuck are you going on about, Hummel?"

Kurt pinned hazel eyes with a cold gaze from his own blue green orbs and raised one eyebrow, "Really  _Puckerman,_  is it such an difficult task for you to refer to a person by their first name?"

The half back just gave a halfhearted shrug and took at drink of the coffee, "At least I used your name and not any of the other things I could call you. Besides, I'm too badass for first names."

The smaller boy let out a noise that sounded like a cross between a huff of annoyance and a sarcastic laugh. "I suppose I  _should_  be grateful you didn't opt to call me 'fag' or 'homo' and as for your being too 'badass' for first names, you always called Finn by his name."

"Dude, I've known Finn since I was, like, three. You know a guy through bed wetting and chicken pox; you kinda gotta call him by his name."

"Eurgh. Bed wetting… Let's file that under 'Information about Finn Hudson I Never Wanted to Know' and leave it at that," Kurt stated with an exaggerated shudder causing the other boy chuckle slightly.

The two fell into an oddly companionable silence, sipping coffee and watching people rushing into the emergency room while others came out at a much more sedated pace. "Hey Hum—Kurt, what were you talking about earlier?"

"When earlier Noah Puckerman?"

Puck turned his head to look at Kurt to find the other boy looking at him with one sarcastic eyebrow (and how the hell could he make an eyebrow  _sarcastic_  anyway) raised, and although it made him want to hit the other boy, he clarified, "Few minutes ago. When you were talking about vibrating colors and the world taking notes."

Kurt couldn't help the slight laugh that escaped his lips, even if it resulted in an intimidating glare from the formerly mohawked teen. "Sorry, but it was vibrant colors, as in, bright colors. Vibrating colors led to an amusing, if bawdy, mental image." Puck just rolled his eyes and gestured with a vague 'get on with it' wave of his hand. The countertenor looked across the parking lot and sighed with a small frown. "Did you know my mother died here? I could actually show you the exact place she died."

"What the fuck does that have to—" Puck started in but stopped when he saw the icy glare turned on him that promised possible castration. Shit. He was  _not_  going to be intimidated by the Fairy. He glanced into the blue-green eyes again. Or maybe he  _was_  going to be intimidated by the Fairy.

"If you want the answer to your question, you are going to let me answer it  _my_  way." Kurt said indignantly, glaring at his long time bully until he shrugged and nodded in sullen acquiescence. "I was six. I suppose most people know that with the speed at which the gossip mill functions in Lima. Most people don't know she was pregnant though, or maybe they just don't remember. Maybe they just don't care. She'd just found out she was having a girl the day before at her twenty week checkup. I remember how excited she and Dad were. I was excited too; especially after I found out it was a girl. I was going to have a little sister to love and play with and dress up in all the adorable clothes I wasn't allowed to wear myself because I was a  _boy_." Only Kurt could managed to make being a guy and not being allowed to wear dresses sound like a fate worse than death, and Puck had to fight a snigger at the thought; he was actually kinda curious about the story the soprano was telling. The effeminate boy's countenance was so dreamy and far away as he spoke. "Mom had taken me to the park because I loved the swings. I loved for her to push me high into the air, and I'd try to touch the clouds with my toes. And the way my shoes would glitter against the sunlight."

Puck coughed, interrupting the story a second time, "Your shoes  _glittered_ , Dude?"

The icy glare was back and once again directed at the jock, "First of all, stop calling me 'Dude.' It's irritating. Secondly, yes, they glittered. My mother and I had Beadazzled them. It was a phase I went through, and we Beadazzled everything we could get our hands on. I thought Dad was going to have a coronary when he found his favorite ball cap with rhinestones all over it, but Mom just kissed him and told him it just made his eyes sparkle." Kurt was smiling softly as his mind went off on its tangent before Puck cleared his throat and jerked the smaller boy back to the present. "And third,  _stop interrupting_!"

"Jeez, cool your shorts Princess."

The only answer was another annoyed huff, but he continued with the story anyway, turning his gaze away from the other boy once again. "It was getting late. Dad was going to be home from the garage soon and Mom and I were going to make his favorite meal, meatloaf with corn and mashed potatoes and orange Jell-O with mandarin oranges in it. She told me I could mix up the Jell-O if I was  _really_  careful and that I could wear one of her aprons. I was so excited and was pulling her down the sidewalk. We had to cross the street, and I looked both ways, I really  _did_ ," he suddenly sounded like he was six again. "But a truck swerved around the corner. He was going too fast. Mommy shoved me away. I was mad at first, but she'd shoved me out of the way of the truck. I'll never forget the sound of it hitting her. The squeal, the thump and then the shattering window. The windshield breaking sounded like our neighbor's wind chime, but then Mommy hit the ground, and she just laid there. She wasn't moving, I couldn't tell if she was breathing. I remember yelling 'Mommy' over and over again. I tried to run to her, but a man grabbed me. So I kicked him in the kneecaps. That's what Mommy and Dad always taught me to do if a stranger grabbed me."

Puck stared in fascinated horror as Kurt relayed his story. He knew Hummel's mother was dead. He vaguely remembered being in third grade and his mom talking on the phone to his Aunt Lilith.  _"Did you hear Lil? Iris Hummel was killed yesterday!... No, not that Iris. Iris Watters!... She married that backwater Hummel guy who owns the garages…Yes. Her… She was walking up Shawnee, crossing Market with her little boy, and some drunk guy came speed around the corner from Perry. He never even stopped. Apparently Iris just had time to push the boy out of the way before she was hit. She died at the hospital last night."_  The football player frowned. He couldn't remember his mom saying anything else about the accident, or the other woman dying, and he knew she'd never said anything more about "the boy." Nothing about a baby either. Weird, but he'd been young, so maybe he just didn't remember... But then again, it wouldn't have been that long after his father had decided to embezzle from his company and run off to Brazil with his secretary, leaving Esther Puckerman with a six year old and a toddler. His mom had bigger issues to deal with at the time than some woman she'd known from like high school or something who died. Puck mentally shrugged as his mind refocused on the breathy voice beside him.

He turned his head and frowned when he saw that Kurt was staring blankly out across the Emergency Room parking lot, tears falling from his eyes and his voice a huskier, more childish version of itself. It was downright creepy. Kinda like that marionette thing in  _Saw_. The mouth was moving, but there was no emotion, no expression. And for  _Kurt_ , Mr. Diva-in-Designer-Clothes,to be acting like that? It was kinda scary. "It was Trauma Room 5. T-5. White letters on a slate blue plaque with Braille underneath. Everyone was running around, the beeping and the yelling hurt my ears because I was just getting over an ear infection. Dad came, but he didn't say anything to me, just ran into the room where Mom was. And then there was a long beep. And Dad was yelling 'NO' over and over again. Suddenly, it was like someone had stuffed a whole bag of cotton balls in my ears; I couldn't hear anything except for roaring blood and my own pounding heartbeat. I knew she was gone. I was only six, and not only was my Mommy dead, but my little sister, Little Baby Bethy, was gone too."

Puck choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken, "Bethy?"  _Why the hell does it have to be Beth?_

Kurt looked at Puck with confusion, but slowly an expression of dawning realization spread across his face, "Oh! Oh my… I'm sorry, Noah. I hadn't realized… But yes, her name was going to be Bethany Angeline." He fell silent until he heard Puck shift, rearranging his limbs so his legs were straight in front of him. The action reminded him of what he'd set out to do with this whole conversation, so he took a breath and resumed his story. "I ran out of the hospital, and I still can't figure out how and why no one noticed an unsupervised six year old running out of the hospital. But I ran through the automatic doors and stopped at the curb. I was panting like I'd just sprinted an entire marathon instead of maybe 100 yards. That was when all the noise and lights and  _life_  just hit me in the face. Life was moving on without a care. The world didn't care that I'd just lost my mother and baby sister and it made me angry. I wanted to stomp my foot and scream for everything to stop and pay attention. They all needed to stop right where they were and be silent and realize that the most wonderful woman in the world had passed away, and darn it! They needed to pay homage to her!" His nostrils flared as he breathed in and out, his chest heaving with the gasping breaths.

"Okay, so whatever that was you said before kinda makes sense now. But what the hell does that have to do with me and my situation?"

The countertenor just sighed, "Look, you suffered a loss tonight. I know you didn't have anyone die, which makes things easier for you, maybe, but it's still difficult. I just wanted you to know…" Kurt was thankful for the darkness that kept his reddening cheeks from being seen, "Damn it! I just wanted to let you know that… that I can understand. And if you need someone to listen, I will. You had to give up your little girl tonight. And while I'm sure her adoptive parents will maybe send you pictures as she grows up, you've literally lost a piece of yourself, and if that doesn't affect you and break your heart, then you are even more heartless than I always thought."

" _I guess the world ain't gonna stop…for my broken heart…"_  Puck sang quietly but looked at the other boy defensively when he saw the incredulously arched eyebrow. "What?" he growled.

Kurt's other eyebrow rose to join the first. "Nothing. I just never figured you to be a country fan."

This time, Kurt was on the receiving end of the 'One Eyebrow Treatment,' "I sang  _Neil Diamond_ , and not just because he's Jewish. Reba McEntire and Alabama aren't that far off from there. Plus, my mom loves country. Country, Neil Diamond, and Elvis. I swear Mom bawls her eyes out every damned time she hears Elvis sing 'In the Ghetto.' And she's got it on vinyl, so she hears it a  _lot_. And Becky is nuts for Taylor Swift and Rascal Flatts. If I have to listen to her bouncing around singing 'You Belong With Me' or 'Love Story' or even 'Summer Nights' at the tops of her lungs one more time, I'm going to hurl… on her iPod so she can't listen to it anymore."

That made the smaller boy giggle, "And only an older brother who adores his little sister but refuses to admit it for fear of losing his 'macho' persona would threaten the iPod but be able to name the artists and songs that she sings." The jock just glares and grumbles something under his breath. "Look on the bright side Noah. At least it isn't Justin Bieber and the Jonas Brothers."

"Yeah, yeah," Puck mutters as he shoves Kurt's shoulder lightly with his own. He doesn't know how they came to be sitting so close to one another, but really, it doesn't matter. Glee and his brilliant idea of 'I'm going to date Mercedes to regain my popularity' had forced him to get to know the effeminate boy better than dumpster dives and slushie facials allowed. He really wasn't such a bad guy as long as his sharp tongue wasn't directed at Puck. "Wait a minute. You know why I know some country songs, now why do  _you_? One line normally isn't enough to recognize the song."

Kurt blushes and shrugs nonchalantly, "My mom. She was a big fan. Johnny Cash, The Judds, George Strait, George Jones, Tammy Wynette, Dolly Parton. She had all sorts of records. I used to love looking through them. The country artists, Chicago, soundtracks for  _Jesus Christ Superstar_  and  _Grease_. That Culture Club album that Mom swore she had no idea where it came from though I caught her singing along to 'Karma Chameleon' while she folded laundry. But Reba was always her favorite. I still listen to her music because it makes me feel closer to Mom. She and I used to sing 'I'll Be' together all the time just before she died." The small boy shrugged, "Plus, the woman was on Broadway! She completely  _owned_  the part of Annie Oakley in  _Annie Get Your Gun_. She's definitely the diva of country music." He took a sip of his coffee and grimaced in distaste at the now cold beverage and dumped the remainder in the gutter before crumpling the cup into an oddly shaped ball. There was a trashcan by the automatic door, probably fifteen feet away and the countertenor pursed his lips as he arched the little ball toward it, smirking to himself when it dropped neatly into the can.

"Duuuude!" Puck strung out the work into about five syllables and just smiled when the other boy glared at him. "I'm not calling you 'Dude.' It's more of a… less girly way of saying 'Ohmigod!'" the jock told the other boy, doing a passable impression of Britney's vacant yet chirpy voice, the response was a giggle. "But seriously man! I couldn't make that shot, Finn couldn't make that shot. Hell,  _no one_  on the basketball team could do that! And you just did with a damned paper cup! Why did you never go out for basketball? The team might be decent if you played!"

Kurt did his best to contain a self satisfied smirk, but some of it might have leaked through as she waved off the comments with a casual flick of his wrist. "Oh, really it's nothing. It's just a matter of trajectory, velocity, and then letting gravity do the rest. And do you  _really_  think I'd want to audition for the basketball team? No, after football, I think it best to give up on participating in sports even if my own array of unique skills might lead to victories for the 'team' because even then I'll never be a part of  _the team_." He hadn't intended for the statement to sound as bitter as it ended up being, but it was too late to take the words back. He hoped Puck was too caught up in his own issues right now to pick up on it as he looked down at his lap.

"Shit Hum—Kurt. We really  _are_  a bunch of assholes, aren't we?"

There went that hope. Kurt sighed and looked up at the other boy; though he wasn't entirely certain when they'd changed positions so they were looking at each other. He was surprised by how bothered by the concept he seemed. "Look Noah, we live in a small town, and go to a small town high school. It's synonymous with a close-minded need for uniformity and when someone or something steps out of line it's not accepted. And I'm willing to admit that not  _all_  the jocks are as sphincter-like as some of the others. Mike and Matt are okay. I'd thought Finn was one of the nice ones, but… well, after the whole 'faggy' episode, it's hard to trust him as much."

Silence fell between the two again. Another ambulance came screeching up to the curb unloading a heart attack patient only to leave a few minutes later. "What about me?" Puck asked.

Kurt didn't even bother to pretend he didn't know what the other boy was talking about, which led to another sigh. Hopefully excessive sighing wouldn't give him wrinkles. "Most of my life, you've been the asshole to end all assholes. It's always been a tie between you and Karofsky for who's caused more nightmares and more damage to my wardrobe. On the wardrobe damage front, Karofsky wins by about $75. Oh, and by about fifteen bruises. You've given me more nightmares." The countertenor's expression was devoid of its usual superiority and contempt; instead it was rather open and brutally honest.

It made Puck cringe, not sure if he wanted to hear anymore, but the smaller boy continued anyway. "Now though… Now I think you might have a few redeeming features. You really tried to own up and help Quinn with the baby, even if your methods weren't exactly shining examples intelligence. Honestly, I think if you quit obsessing over what a stud you are with your 'guns' and what others think of you, you could be a decent person. I think you might have some intelligence hiding in that head of yours and the fashion gods wept with joy when you lost that fashion faux pas that was your Mohawk. If you'd just let me improve your clothing and style, well, that would just be icing." He looked at the jock, studying him, "Yes, Noah Puckerman, I believe somewhere in there," slim fingers tapped the other boys muscular chest lightly, "who could be a good man and a wonderful friend. I think that person has been buried and ignored for so long that it will take a lot of work for him to be ready to meet the world. But in the end, it would be worth it."

Kurt fell silent again, and Puck considered the smaller boy as he cringed slightly, no doubt thinking he'd overstepped an invisible boundary and was going to get his ass kicked now. "You can relax Kurt," Puck sighed and ran his hand over his shaved head, "I'm not going to kick your ass for being honest. And probably right." A chuckle escaped his lips as he decided that shocked was a good look on Kurt. His mouth was hanging open and his eyes were huge. It was kind of cute in the same way a golden retriever puppy was cute when it was given a juicy bone three times its size. But it was kind of sad too. It made Puck really think about how he'd treated the other boy over the years. How would he feel if a bunch of girls did something similar to Bekah just because she was different and refused to hide who she was? He'd be fucking livid and probably demand a bunch of twelve year old heads on pikes. He was suddenly rather glad Kurt didn't have an older brother to kick all their asses, though Mr. Hummel was scary in his own right. And no doubt owned quite a few guns.

Kurt checked his phone and winced when he saw what time it was. His dad was not going to be happy. Maybe he could convince him he'd gone out with the girls to get some nonfat frozen yogurt to bemoan their loss at Regionals and the loss of the Glee Club. Wait, did Puck even know yet? "We came in third. Vocal Adrenaline won."

Puck just looked at him, "Well fuck. No more Glee then, huh? Well, that sucks a monkey's testicles."

The smaller boy wrinkled his nose at the other, "That's disgusting Noah. And what difference does it make to you? You still have your popularity and status as the school 'stud.' What do you need to miss Glee for? You still have football and basketball. Glee is pretty much all some of us have."

"You still have Cheerios."

"Cheerios is a means to an end, and while I enjoy it, I joined to make a point to Mr. Schue. He's learned somewhat, and I've no doubt I'll stay in Cheerios, but other than Britt and maybe Santana, I'm not friends with the Cheerios. In Glee, I have Mercedes and Quinn and Tina and Artie in addition to Britt and Santana."

The jock gave him an inscrutable look in response. "What about the rest of us?"

"Matt and Mike, or Changford as I call them since you rarely see one without the other, are really nonentities to me, as heartless as that sounds. They never picked on me, but neither did they ever make an effort to defend me from the bullying, and I've never really talked to them in or out of Glee. Those two have probably known each other as long as you and Finn have known each other, if not longer. I already told you, you have the potential to be a friend Noah. If you could find it in yourself to give up some of your obsession with your popularity and realize that a person's popularity and status in high school has very little to do one's ability and what they will achieve with their life. I mean, what do you want to do after high school, or have you honestly even thought that far?"

Puck shrugged. "I've given it some thought, but not a lot. I don't exactly have the money to go to a good college, and I'm not good enough to get by on a football scholarship. Don't have the brains for any other scholarship either. I guess Quinn really was right, huh? I'm destined to be a Lima Loser forever."

The smaller boy rolled his eyes, "Really Noah, self pity doesn't suit you. Everyone has the power to change their lot in life, usually it's just a matter of whether they're willing to ask for help or not. The question is, are you?"

The jock knew that he wanted to get out of Lima more than anything, but he'd told Kurt the truth, with his financial status in addition to his grades and mediocre football ability, he was pretty much screwed, unless he had help, but who would help him? "I guess I'm willing," he finally said, looking down and picking at the edge of a hole in his jeans, "but who would help me? I mean, it's not like I can afford to pay someone to tutor me, and no one is going to say, 'Hey, maybe it would be nice and fun to help Puck out with his schoolwork.' Face it man, I'm fucked."

There was a long silence on Kurt's part before he hummed thoughtfully. Puck was still looking down, picking at his jeans, and a slightly mischievous look crossed the smaller boy's face. "Hey, maybe it would be nice and fun to help Noah out with his schoolwork so he doesn't completely fail as a human being!"

Noah's gaze shot from his lap to the countertenor's face in shock before his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "Are you serious, or is this some kind of… I dunno… fucked up payback thing?"

The brunette boy rolled his eyes and sighed, "While I've often entertained delightfully vicious fantasies of bringing you to your knees in subjugated awe and verbally emasculating and eviscerating you; this is not the beginnings of some elaborate plan to pay you back for the years of bullying torment, I assure you."

"Then why?"

"Can't I just be a nice person?"

One eyebrow rose on the jock's face incredulously, "To Wheels? Yes. To Mercedes? Yes. To pretty much any other member of Glee? Yes. To me?" he shrugged, "I'm more likely to get an exhibition of your kicking abilities performed on my balls."

Kurt frowned, "Oh for the love of Versace! Can you at least  _try_  to get your head out of your ass or the car key out of your ear long enough to actually  _listen_  to what I'm saying?" His answer was a glare that really looked more petulant than intimidating. "You would like to be a better person, right?" A nod. "Good, and you need help to achieve this goal, correct?" Another nod. "Just think of it as a long term makeover. And we both know I can't resist a makeover!" he announced with no small amount of fiendish glee.

"I'm going to die, aren't I, and my body be left in the woods in a Lady Gaga costume?" Noah deadpanned at the smaller boy, causing him to giggle. The sound made him smile slightly in return. "I really don't want that to happen. I don't think I could pull off those shoes like you did."

The smaller boy rolled his eyes, "Of  _course_ , you can't pull off vintage Alexander McQueen like I can. But maybe that that yellow spandex number from 'Paparazzi.' The black lipstick and glasses would be perfect for you…" he said with a smirk while looking Puck over appraisingly, his eyes lingering here and there just to get a rise out of the other boy.

Puck glared, "To quote Mercedes, oh  _HELL_  to the naw!" A chuckle escaped him when he saw Kurt doubled over giggling and soon, both boys were laughing. One would begin to get himself under control, see the other, and start laughing all over again. The few people entering and exiting the emergency room made sure to give the two boys a wide berth, most likely wondering if they were a pair of escapees from the psychiatric ward. "You know," the jock commented once they'd calmed their laughter, "you're a pretty cool guy Hummel."

Kurt gave him a half-hearted glare, "And now we're back to the last name…" he waved the other boy off when he started to say something with a casual flick of his wrist, "Yes, I know it's just something that 'dudes' do, even with friends, but it's still irritating."

"And old habits are hard to break."

"And old habits are hard to break," the smaller boy conceded as his phone chimed, signaling a new text. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and winced when he saw the sender. His dad was not a happy camper.

"What's up?"

"My dad. He wants to know where I am considering the competition was over a couple hours ago. I suppose I'd better get home," Kurt informed the jock as he stood and brushed off his pants.

"Oh." Noah rose from the curb as well. "Yeah. I guess… I'll see you later then." Suddenly he was looking everywhere  _but_  at the small countertenor. "Um… ya know… thanks for…well, um… just thanks," he stuttered out, rubbing at the back of his head self-consciously as Kurt just stared at him with his head tilted inquisitively.

"How are you getting home?"

"Huh?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and smirked, "You couldn't have driven here, so you can't drive home. Ergo, unless you plan on walking, you're stuck," the smaller boy commented with far too much cheerfulness in Puck's opinion as the jock grunted noncommittally. "So, being the magnanimous being that I am, I am willing to offer my assistance in returning you to your domicile."

"Say  _what?_  Seriously man, can't you ever just speak  _English_?"

"Oh for the love of…  _seriously_  Noah? Would you like me to give you a ride home?"

Puck glared for a moment then shrugged, "Oh. Sure, thanks. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Because it's entertaining to bewilder the plebeians with my vastly superior vocabulary?" Kurt asked innocently while his eyes sparkled mischievously.

" _English_ , Hummel, English," the jock said with a grin.

"Hmph. Neanderthal." The smaller boy huffed, but there was a small smirk playing about his lips. "Now come on, if you want a ride home. It's going to take enough fast talking as is to keep my father from cutting all of this month's wardrobe budget without being even later because you want to argue about my vocabulary."

"Fine," Puck grunted, "Lead the way Princess." The smaller boy didn't deign to answer and just led the way across the parking lot, digging his car keys out of his pants pocket as he walked.

Puck sighed in relief when their reached the sleek black Lincoln Navigator. The combination of caffeine and adrenaline was quickly wearing off, and now all the jock wanted to do was sleep for the next week and just forget that he had any cares. That he'd just lost his daughter and the mother of his daughter; who really, had never belonged to him to begin with. The alarm system chirped as Kurt disarmed it with the key fob and both boys climbed tiredly into the luxury SUV.

Kurt simply relaxed into the leather seats for a moment before fastening his seatbelt and starting the vehicle. He looked over at the jock who was simply staring blankly out the windshield. "Seatbelt on Noah." The other boy simply turned to look at him. "I'm serious. Either you put the seatbelt on, or you walk home. Your choice Noah Puckerman." Finally, the jock fastened his own seatbelt, and Kurt nodded in satisfaction. With just a few quick strokes of his nimble fingers, the Navigator's stereo flared to life, the music picking up where it had left off when last stopped, and the second half of  _Rent's_  "What You Own" drifted from the speakers as the countertenor backed out of the parking spot and made his way onto the main roads.

Both boys were quiet on the drive to the jocks house, each lost in their own thoughts or simply listening to the music until a soft piano and steel guitar intro started up. Kurt felt a small, poignant smile curve upon his face as he turned the volume up a couple notches and he softly began to sing along.

_When darkness falls upon your heart and soul_  
I'll be the light that shines for you  
When you forget how beautiful you are  
I'll be there to remind you

He couldn't help the shocked gasp that escaped when Puck picked up the next couple lines and he glanced at the other boy out of the corner of his eye. Puck just gave him a small smile and nodded to him, so joined in, harmonizing on the last two lines of the verse.

**When you can't find your way  
I'll find my way to you**

_**When troubles come around  
I will come to you** _

Kurt's smile grew as the boys started harmonizing through the chorus of the song, then trading off lines, turning it into a true duet.

__**I'll be your shoulder when you need someone to lean on**  
Be your shelter  
 _When you need someone to see you through_  
 **I'll be there to carry you**  
 _**I'll be there** _  
**I'll be the rock that will be strong for you**  
 _The one that will hold on to you_  
 **When you feel that rain falling down** __****  
_When there's nobody else around_ __**  
I'll be**

There was no stopping the slight giggle that escaped when Puck wiggled his eyebrows and flexed his impressive arm muscles when he sang "The rock that will be strong for you." There was no doubting the older boy's strength, considering he'd felt it all the times the football jocks had tossed him in the dumpster.  _Look how far we've come_ , the brunette thought wryly as Noah started into the next verse of the song, before he picked up his parts in their impromptu duet.

**And when you're there with no one there to hold**  
I'll be the arms that reach for you  
And when you feel your faith is running low.  
I'll be there to believe in you

_When all you find are lies_  
I'll be the truth you need  
 __**When you need someone to run to  
You can run to me**

Both boys were smiling widely and Noah thought they actually sounded pretty good together. The smaller boy just seemed to  _know_  how best to harmonize with Puck's huskier voice instinctively in order to meld their voices into something new. And really, if Puck were being completely honest with himself, not only could they probably run Rachel and Finn off the stage in a competition, Kurt by himself could most likely give Reba herself a run for her money.

__**I'll be your shoulder when you need someone to lean on**  
Be your shelter  
 _When you need someone to see you through_  
 **I'll be there to carry you**  
 _**I'll be there** _  
**I'll be the rock that will be strong for you**  
 _The one that will hold on to you_  
 **When you feel that rain falling down** __****  
_When there's nobody else around_ __**  
I'll be**

**I'll be the sun.  
When your heart's filled with rain.**

Kurt startled when he felt nudge his arm where it rested on the console between the seats as the jock beside him began the bridge and he turned to look at his companion when he got stopped by a red light, wondering what the touch was for. It wasn't like the boy was the type to be particularly touchy feely with anyone, let alone McKinley's resident gay kid. Well, unless the countertenor counted the dumpster dives, but Noah hadn't indulged in that since just after he'd joined the Glee club. But as he met the other boy's eyes, he saw something there he hadn't seen before. There was a warmth, a  _friendliness_ , there. Maybe their conversation tonight had made an impact, and right there Kurt Hummel decided that maybe he should let go of his sordid past with the formerly mowhawked teen and extend an olive branch of friendship. It was with that thought in mind that he continued the song, keeping his blue-green eyes locked on Noah Puckerman's hazel orbs.

_I'll be the one.  
To chase the rain away._

Puck smirked slightly when he saw the other boys eyes go from shocked to thoughtful to friendly and encouraging as they sat stopped at the light, only turning away when the car behind them honked in annoyance after it turned green. It seemed odd to the jock that, for once, he wasn't the least bit uncomfortable around the gay kid. It wasn't like the kid wanted him, and really, he was running a little short on people he really considered friends lately. He wasn't about to look a gift horse, or an olive branch in the mouth, or the olive? He relaxed in the seat with a true smile and nudged Kurt's shoulder lightly with his fist.

__**I'll be your shoulder when you need someone to lean on**  
Be your shelter  
 _When you need someone to see you through_  
 **I'll be there to carry you**  
 _**I'll be there** _  
**I'll be the rock that will be strong for you**  
 _The one that will hold on to you_  
 **When you feel that rain falling down** __****  
_When there's nobody else around_ __**  
I'll be**

_**I'll be** _

_**I'll be** _

Their voices drifted away, the last notes of the song falling to silence as the Navigator pulled up in front of Puck's house and Kurt cut the engine. They were silent for a moment, neither wanting to break whatever had been forged since the countertenor had joined the jock on the curb at the hospital. But it had to be broken. Puck sighed and opened the passenger door, sliding out of the leather seat of the SUV and turned back to look at Kurt. "Look Hummel, thanks. You're a pretty decent guy. And… well, if you want to… hang out, or whatever, call me or something, yeah?"

The brunette's eyes were wide as he nodded and then grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He quickly scribbled his phone number down and handed it to the jock. "Here, my number. The same offer is open to you as well. And if you need help studying or anything, let me know."

Puck rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, "Yeah… I will. Well… see you Monday Dude," he said as he shut the door of the Navigator and walked up the path to his front door.

Kurt grumbled in annoyance and rolled the window down to yell at the other boy, "Don't call me 'Dude!' My  _name_  is Kurt!"

Puck just waved and called out over his shoulder, "Whatever you say Princess!"

The counter tenor huff petulantly, though he could feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched the jock let himself into his house before he started his car and drove off toward home. As he wandered through the streets of Lima, he couldn't help but think how strange his night had turned out. He didn't know how things would work out between him and Noah in the long run, but maybe, there was more to the older boy than Kurt had thought possible. Suddenly he was looking forward to finding out. That was, if he could keep his dad from completely killing him when he got home.


End file.
